… going away is valuable because it offers opportunities to gain fresh perspectives on your work. It might even present an epiphany or revelation, literary or otherwise. At the very least, it’s a working holiday for the mind, and offers a chance to contemplate quietly, whether alone or in the company of other writers.
I went away in the first few weeks of June, to Jakarta and Bandung in Indonesia, then Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia. And though Jakarta and KL were familiar to me, Bandung was new, and the places I stayed in all three locations were new, as were the people I met. Like all travel, it was packed with strange, unfamiliar experiences.
Flying back to Melbourne, I was lucky to have no-one seated next to me, so was able to spread out after supper had been served. Also, I had an extra blanket, so was nice and snug. I slept, for longer and more deeply than I usually would on a flight, and just before the breakfast service I woke with a start, confused, and struck my head on the seat in front. There was a cut, dizziness, and nausea – and panic that I was about to become the passenger who requires medical assistance. It was a frightening episode, more so because I was travelling solo, but I eventually managed to compose myself – my desire to not cause a fuss overrode any concern about my own wellbeing! I arrived home without any further drama and got checked out the next day and was given the all-clear.
A few days later I came down with Covid. The timing suggested I might have picked it up on the journey home. Maybe the knock to the head had lowered my resistance. So on 25 June when my article about writing retreats was published in the July/August issue of Working Writer, I was too under the weather to celebrate or share the news. I wasn’t feeling up to much more than reading, and watching old movies on my iPad. Dial M for Murder, and Murder on the Orient Express. Interesting common theme. Now I’m feeling much better, things are steadier, and this is that delayed celebratory share.
A common feature of all these retreats is the extraordinary quiet and the slow pace … the simplicity of a blank diary page … My mind and body shift to a lower gear, and my heartbeat slows and steadies. The dictionary defines “retreat” as a withdrawal, a pulling away, a reclusion. It’s a verb and a noun. And this is what it feels like, and is why it feels so regenerative.
Readers can get a free subscription to Working Writer simply by requesting one from workingwriters@aol.com – the US-based journal comes out every two months, straight to your email inbox. It’s well worth subscribing, and there’s no paper involved so the planet will thank you.
Read ‘Let’s Go on a Writing Retreat’ by clicking here. But I’d recommend taking a look at the entire July/August issue of Working Writer (ISSN 1533-3027 Vol. 25 No. 4), which you can do by clicking here. And if you like what you see, don’t forget to subscribe by dropping a quick line to workingwriters@aol.com – it’s a free and easy way to support this independent journal and its contributors. As Elwood Writers is often keen to point out, the best way to support any writer is by reading their work.
Happy reading, writing, subscribing, and retreating! Stay peaceful, safe, and well.
BLT
Barry Lee Thompson 
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